Overdue. My apologies.

Yeah, it's been awhile since my last post. I must beg your forgiveness, dear Readers, for, though my schedule has been rather hectic and my bedroom has been in a constant state of fluctuation between immaculate and looking like a band of rouges came along through, YOU should not have been neglected! And for that, I am truly very sorry.

Speaking of rouges, yes, my room was indeed ransacked earlier this week. However, this was partially my fault, as it was an act of retaliation. It all began when a couple of girls on base (two of my closest friends, I might add) attacked my room, strategically placing 250 plastic spoons throughout our room.

"You've been spooned."

Naturally, my roommate, Jenny, and I felt the need for revenge. Three days ago, we stole an outfit of theirs, filled it with leaves, printed out photos of their faces, and sat our makeshift scarecrows on a bench outside their flat. We left a simple warning behind which read, "LEAF US ALONE!". Not only was it a rather cleaver prank (if I do say so myself), but it attracted a lot of attention. Many a car stopped and laughed and admired our crafty work. It was a lot of fun, and we were able to help the trainees doing work duties dispose of their leaves! Everyone won! Though, we knew retaliation was well under way as the day went on and the pictures on Facebook gained more and more Likes...

The lovely ladies (Kaitlin and Jaime)

At the end of lectures one day, as we headed towards the dining hall, I was aware of the snickers and stares I received. Eventually, someone told me that revenge had come.As I walked into my building, I saw that there had been duct tape strewn across the doorway to my bedroom, causing me to duck underneath in order to see the real damage behind the door. Only pictures can fully explain what happened in Building Nine to Jenny and Jade:

Lounge chair atop our mangled bed frames...

"We're watching You!" in our windows...

Mattresses (along with pj's and bedding) in the Lounge

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well played, ladies. 

I love it here, almost as much as I love the people who make my life amazing! Thank you to all you wonderful people who either helped us in our evil schemes or were the masterminds behind them! I love you all!

...

There's no real point nor message behind this blog. Simply felt like writing...

So, I'm learning how to play guitar. "Play" is a relative term, however; I know four chords and am physically capable of strumming the guitar. This past week, the base put on a 24/7 prayer rota, my prayer shift being 11pm-12am everyday. Surprisingly, it was during those times I felt the most refreshed and rejuvenated. I would begin every hour by reading Psalm 29 and then proceed to play and sing songs...loudly, off beat, and occasionally off-key. How Great Thou Art has become one of my favorites, especially when played fast and furiously!

 Yeah, life is swell.

You know it's Right when it hurts.

The past few days have been, in a word, painful.

It began normal enough, attending the base-wide sessions and lectures this week as part of the DTS. During one session, the Leadership Team spoke about the importance of maintaining relationships with other YWAM bases and locations our base has previously visited or had connections with. As I looked at the list (a mixture of UK, European, African, Asian, and South American locations), I was ecstatic to see that two locations that I have had a heart for (down to the exact city) were up on the list! I furiously scribbled them down on my groups' Top Ten List we'd been asked to pray about. As we joined another group in discussion about what our bases Top Ten locations should be, I felt, with absolute certainty, that I was to tell the group to cross BOTH of my ideal locations off. I was in such a state of shock and disappointment that I physically could not open my mouth to tell the group. The more I prayed and fought God, the more intense the feeling became. "God, you KNOW I have a passion for both these countries! You know that I've been praying about these places; why would you ask me to give them up?"
As a painful groan escaped my lips, I said as loudly as I could force my vocal chords, "Cross both ________ and _________ off the list." When another member of the team confirmed that she'd felt the same, I felt an incredible sense of dread overwhelm me. 
If God put a desire, passion, dream in my heart, isn't it right that I pursue them? Would a loving God make me give up something like that?
It took an entire morning of weeping and prayer from multiple people for me to realize that I'd been holding on so tightly to these locations that I had begun to believe that I couldn't have a heart for anywhere else. These were MY countries; everywhere else was secondary. Jaime, a fellow staff and dear friend, prayed for me and had a picture for me:

You're sitting at a table with God,

telling Him about everything you love and all

your desires and dreams. God is looking

down at a book and this hurts you.

You ask Him why He's not paying attention

to you, why He's not listening.

He holds up the book and you realize

He's been writing down all your dreams and desires.

He knows your passions and has them recorded;

He has not forgotten and will not forget.

He can and will still use these passions for His glory,

whether that be now or much later. 

Needless to say, I began to ball my eyes out again. I'd become so used to seeing God as someone who purposely makes me uncomfortable and pulls me away from my desires and wants, that I'd forgot that God is a Comforter, He never forgets, and He always has our best interest at heart. It's still difficult, giving something up that you desperately long for. But I know that only after letting go can you receive the fullness of God's blessings and goodness. Painful, hurting, but healing and ready to move on. 

 

No Two Things...

The September quarter has begun here in Harpenden, meaning the beginning of a new DTS, a new season, new faces, and so on. Let me start off by saying that as much as my brain tries to draw comparisons between this past season and the one that I'm am currently entering, there is NO comparison, nor should there be, really.

The current DTS has 31 students, 25 of which are girls (a drastic shift from the last school here, out of the 20 students, 7 were female). This school is not only different when comparing demographics, but has an entirely different feel to it. Within the first 3 days of lectures, we, collectively as a DTS, were balling our eyes out and having immense revelation about the character of God.  

Soraya and I (yep, friends)

Basically, I love this school. Beautiful people. Beautiful faces. Good times ahead.